DC HERO AT MARVEL

Anton face was indeed quite well-known.

Especially in New York, where Batman was more famous than the President, Anton, as Batman spokesperson, had become a beloved figure by association. There weren't many people in the city who didn't recognize him.

As a result, DC fans and its works were particularly popular in New York.

At universities across the city, students fantasized daily about becoming superheroes and fighting for justice.

Even incidents of campus bullying had decreased by more than half.

When the security guard saw Anton, a look of excitement appeared on his face.

"Can I have your autograph?"

The guard quickly pulled out a pen from his pocket, tugged at the hem of his shirt—smooth and wrinkle-free like a sheet of paper—and eagerly said,

"Sign on my shirt! I'm a huge fan of yours. Your movies are amazing!"

"You've got good taste."

Anton gave the guard a thumbs-up, signed his shirt, and then strode confidently into the banquet hall.

Inside, the room was filled with laughter and music, and no one noticed the doors being pulled open.

Only a handful of people caught sight of someone entering.

Among those few was Anna DeCobray, the Baroness of Cobra.

Her eyes lit up, immediately locking onto Anton.

As he reached the edge of the crowd, the Baroness approached him. With a radiant smile on her stunning face, she sashayed over, her slender waist swaying gracefully.

She looped one arm around Anton, pressing her ample curves against his arm.

Anton squinted slightly, even able to feel her heartbeat.

"Hey, Director, mind having a drink with me?"

Anna batted her eyelashes at him playfully.

"Oh?"

Anton looked down at the alluring woman radiating charm and smiled.

Since you've come to me on your own, I won't hold back!

"Miss, may I ask your name?"

Pretending not to recognize her, Anton picked up a glass of wine from a nearby table, clinked glasses with her, and smiled.

"I don't believe we've met in New York before."

"Anna DeCobray."

Anna sipped her wine, her breath warm and fragrant. "I've known you for a long time, Mr. Jameson. Your work is quite famous now."

"You can call me Anton."

While Anton appeared to be focused on Anna, his eyes were subtly scanning the room for another key figure: Destro!

Yet, after looking around for a while, Destro was nowhere to be seen.

"Mr. Jameson, you're being a bit rude," Anna said, feigning discontent. "I'm talking to you, but you seem distracted."

"Apologies," Anton replied. "I just realized your last name is quite similar to that of a French scientist I know—Daniel DeCobray."

"He my husband."

Anna heart skipped a beat, though her expression remained composed.

"Is that so?"

Anton laughed, leaning closer to whisper in her ear, his breath warm: "Women like you, already married, always have a unique charm in my eyes."

"Didn't expect you to have a thing for married women!"

Anna smiled coquettishly, her eyes full of allure, as she gave him a look.

"I recall the balcony over there is empty. Care to join me for some fresh air?"

"Of course!"

Anton readily agreed and followed Anna to the secluded balcony.

Moments later, he returned from the balcony, looking visibly disgruntled, spitting on the ground as he muttered in frustration.

Apparently, Anna, perhaps trying to throw him off guard, had leaned in to kiss him the moment they stepped onto the balcony.

Thankfully, Anton had reacted quickly, shutting his mouth in time to preserve his dignity.

Although Anton didn't have lofty principles about remaining "pure," he certainly wasn't indiscriminate.

From the information he had gathered, Anna DeCobray, the so-called Baroness, was hardly a paragon of fidelity.

During her missions for the Cobra organization, she often used her body as a weapon, likely putting her baron husband in an endless cycle of humiliation.

Of course, in the movie portrayal, Anna was depicted as having been brainwashed by villains, ultimately revealed to be a good person at heart.

But such narratives struck Anton as absurdly naive.

In this real-world scenario, Anton only trusted verified information.

"Almost got taken advantage of!"

Anton muttered in annoyance as he walked back into the banquet hall.

However, recalling the interrogation that had just taken place on the balcony, his expression turned grim.

Destro had left the venue within the first five minutes of the banquet.

Anna had stayed behind only because her perpetually humiliated husband had wanted to continue discussing high-energy physics with other attendees, inadvertently giving Anton the opportunity to confront her.

As for the location of the nano-worm warheads, it was classified information known only to Destro.

"Looks like it time to wrap up this banquet," Anton murmured, his eyes scanning the room with a sharp and menacing gaze.

Meanwhile, other Cobra operatives who had been monitoring Anton and Anna noticed something amiss.

Only Anton emerged from the balcony.

Something was wrong!

Their expressions shifted, and realizing they might have been exposed, they immediately drew their guns and opened fire on Anton without hesitation.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Flashes of muzzle fire lit up the room as peanut-sized bullets shot out of their barrels, speeding toward Anton like lightning.

But Anton, already attuned to their movements, quickly stepped behind a pillar, dodging the attack.

Clang!

Crash!

Decorations in the banquet hall shattered as bullets tore through them.

Unlucky bystanders were caught in the crossfire, with some being hit and collapsing to the ground, writhing in pools of blood.

"Ahhh—!"

"Terrorist attack!"

"There a shooter! Damn it, this is a school—where did the gunmen come from?"

Panicked screams erupted from the crowd.

"Call the police!"

"Get the cops! Hurry!"

People scrambled in chaos, crawling on the ground in desperation.

Most knew the basic rule in a shooting: stay low or get down, find cover, and avoid running aimlessly. Running blindly would only risk ending up like the unfortunate soul already lying dead, struck by a stray bullet.

Bang!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The Cobra operatives locked onto Anton, who was hiding behind the pillar, and began moving slowly to encircle him.

Meanwhile, Daniel DeCobray stood frozen in shock.

These gunmen were supposed to be his bodyguards.

How, in an instant, had his wife disappeared, and his bodyguards turned into killers, attacking a stranger?

What was happening to this world?

Before Daniel could make sense of the situation, the tide of the battle shifted dramatically.

Whoosh!

Behind the pillar, Anton removed his jacket and yanked off his tie, throwing them toward another pillar nearby.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The tense gunmen, their eyes fixed on the pillar, were momentarily distracted by the flying jacket and fired wildly, shredding the expensive, handmade suit into ribbons.

Using the diversion, Anton relocated.

With a quick leap, he darted behind a glass wall, smashing the wine glass he had picked up earlier. He then flung the jagged stem in a sharp motion as soon as he peeked out.

Ssshhk!

The sharp edge of the glass pierced the throat of one of the gunmen.

"Ghh-ghhh!"

The gunman gasped for air, his eyes wide, blood bubbling from his mouth as he collapsed to the floor, writhing.

His comrades' faces twisted in shock as they raised their weapons and fired.

The glass wall shattered instantly.

But Anton was no longer behind it.

"Impossible!"

"Where did he go?"

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Before they could react, two shards of broken glass came flying, embedding themselves in the eyes of two more gunmen.

"Aaaaahhh!"

"I can't see! I can't see! My eyes!"

Their agonized screams echoed through the hall.

In the span of a few blinks, everyone saw that out of the four gunmen, three had already been taken down.

The last remaining one stood trembling, overcome with unprecedented fear. Beads of sweat the size of peas formed on his forehead and trickled down his face.

He felt as though he wasn't hunting Anton—instead, Anton was hunting him.

The roles had reversed!

What kind of opponent was this?

They had done their homework on Anton. As far as they knew, he had never demonstrated such terrifying skills before.

Could it be that, as Batman spokesperson, he had also been trained to such a degree?

For ten long seconds, the two sides were at a standoff.

The remaining gunman mind raced, his nerves teetering on the edge of collapse.

He gritted his teeth hard.

"Come out! Hands in the air, or I'll kill everyone here! Aren't you Batman ally? Would you just sit by and watch them die?"

The gunman voice cracked with desperation.

"No!"

"Please don't kill us!"

The people on the ground, terrified, wore expressions of utter despair. Some, unable to handle the pressure, broke into loud sobs.

The gunman could hardly endure the tension any longer.

His enemy still hadn't revealed himself!

He kept his gun trained, but it had no target.

His expression hardened as he turned his weapon toward a nearby woman without hesitation.

"Ahhhh—!"

The woman collapsed to the ground, losing control of her bladder. The foul-smelling liquid soaked her skirt and ran down her legs to the floor.

Just as the gunman was about to pull the trigger—

"Hmph!"

A disdainful snort, low and dismissive, echoed through the hall and reached everyone ears.

Whoosh!

A golden card suddenly flew through the air, tracing a curved arc like a bullet with a mind of its own. It sliced through the last gunman throat, severing his windpipe.

"Ghhh-ghhh!"

He gasped for air, blood gushing from his neck as he fell to the ground, lifeless.

The gunman fate was identical to the first one who had been stabbed in the throat by the shattered wine glass—he choked on blood, his face quickly turning purple, and finally collapsed lifelessly.

Anton, his expression icy, stepped forward, picked up the gun from the dead man hand, and aimed it at the two gunmen whose eyes had been pierced.

Bang!

Bang!

Both were shot cleanly in the head.

"It over," Anton declared, his voice low and calm as he scanned the room.

"The police are already on their way. No one is to leave. If you try, don't blame me for being unkind.

These are extraordinary circumstances—I hope you understand."

The people in the banquet hall, filled with relief at having survived, had no thoughts of leaving. One by one, they collapsed onto the floor, exhaling deeply.

Only then did someone recognize Anton.

"Anton, it you!"

A voice cried out in surprise.

Anton turned to see that the speaker was an old acquaintance, one of his former rowdy friends.

"Anton! He Anton Jameson? The director?"

"Not just a director—he also Batman ally and a full-fledged member of the Justice League! No wonder he so skilled; he fits right in with them!"

"Damn terrorists!"

The crowd began whispering among themselves, their relief evident.

A few moments later—

Wee-oo wee-oo!

NYPD vehicles arrived swiftly at the entrance.

George Stacy led his team into the hall. Seeing the chaos and the bodies strewn about, his face darkened. He quickly approached Anton.

When he saw that Anton was unharmed, he sighed in relief.

After a brief exchange, Anton said,

"The woman is on the balcony. She knows something. After you interrogate her, have the Turtles lock her in the temporary sewer prison.

As for Daniel DeCobray, he just an unlucky guy. He probably doesn't know much, but you can try questioning him."

With that, Anton headed for the exit.

"Wait, where are you going now?"

George was startled.

Noticing Anton demeanor, it was clear he intended to continue his mission. George tried to reason with him.

"Anton, I'm not trying to stop you. I'm just saying the NYPD can assist you—this is New York, after all. You get what I mean?"

"There no need. This is not something you can handle," Anton replied coldly after a brief pause.

"The enemy is extremely dangerous, and they're coming after Batman."

"What?"

George was shocked. "After Batman?!"

Without further explanation, Anton turned and headed for his car.

"Are you sure you don't need our help?" George called out after him.

"No. Don't follow me later—we'll handle it."

Anton waved dismissively and drove off.

Vroom! Vroom! Vroom!

The roar of the car engine filled the air.

In front of George, Anton sports car sped away from the Columbia University campus.

With a sleek drift, even the car taillights vanished from sight.